The Shield of Valir Formerly Project Rivendell
by TWC - Cathy
Summary: Part TEN now up. The shield has found a new owner, and there is tragedy in Rivendell. R Rated for sex scene (not entirely gratuitous. It will have a point later) Pls R
1. Project Rivendell

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The Shield of Valir

Part One

Project Rivendell

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A/n unashamedly romantic 'Mary-Sue' falling into Middle Earth Fic. Oh and for the purpose of the story, Elrond's wife Celebrian is good and dead! (God bless Alternate Universe…) Based more on the films than the novel (where Celebrian is not mentioned anyway…). The Middle Earth part of the story takes place in the four years between the end of the fall of Mordor and the sailing to the Undying land of Elrond, Gandalf, Frodo and others.

Note: This story was originally called Project Rivendell, mainly because I had not decided exactly how my characters got into Middle Earth (D'oh!). Now I have, I have altered the name to something a little more 'Middle Earth'. However, I have kept the title Project Rivendell for the first part, as it fits in with what the characters were doing. As I am lazy, I have not altered the headings on subsequent chapters….

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Present Day - Mid-Wales

"Shit! I've broken a nail," said Rhonda, throwing her shovel to one side. Rhonda was a twenty-two year old daddy's girl, with long, expertly teased bottle-blonde hair that looked garish alongside the designer 'distressed' jeans and FCUK t-shirt she reluctantly wore. However, her Jimmy Choo shoes redeemed her … in her own eyes at least, though hardly suitable for the job in hand. After watching a television series about gladiators, Rhonda (whose father despaired of her ever settling to anything) had decided to become an archaeologist, but so far had not found any gladiators' remains (and it was probable she would faint if she did).

"Quick! Call an ambulance!" cried Will. Will was about thirty, tall and black with a winning smile. Unlike Rhonda, he was not afraid of getting his hands dirty. His small round spectacles and corduroy pants gave him the air of a professor, though he was still working on his degree in archaeology, having come into it relatively late having decided that selling real estate was not for him. Now he liked nothing better than digging around in the dirt, finding artefacts from a bygone age. 

"Stop messing about you two." The warning came from the third member of the team, Gwyneth, who took archaeology much more seriously than either of her assistants. "We've only got two weeks to find evidence that Rivendell really existed, and it's taken us one week to dig this far.." She had been consumed with proving the existence of Rivendell since her late father had told her tales of it when she was a child. It was only in the past few years that she had learned that it might have existed somewhere in mid-Wales. Then it had taken her another couple of years to persuade the owner of the estate to allow her and her team to dig. All negotiations had been done through his agent, and he had steadfastly refused to meet Gwyneth and her team. Now they stood in a large cleft in the valley, that had grown even wider due to the extensive digging operation that had taken place over the previous week.

"Why only two weeks?" asked Will. "We're not in anyone's way here."

"It was part of the agreement with the estate manager. He says that his boss, doesn't want people tramping over his land indefinitely," explained Gwyneth, not for the first time. "He … big boss man that is … has invited us to dinner tonight, so perhaps we can ask for more time, but he won't give it to us if he thinks we're just slacking in order to prolong the job."

"Well, I think we're wasting our time," said Rhonda, leaning on her shovel, and examining her broken nail. "I mean, it's like the Holy Grail or Jesus, isn't it? There's no proof that they were here."

"Lots of people believe Jesus actually existed without needing the evidence to support it." Will reminded her. "Not sure about the Holy Grail though."

"The Holy Grail is a state of mind," Gwyneth told him. "It's about altruism and doing something good for someone without wanting anything in return. Now come on. Get digging."

The trio spent the rest of the morning alternatively digging and using ultrasound equipment to try and pinpoint hidden artefacts. Their search was in vain. They sat down to a lunch of fish paste sandwiches and cola, already looking forward to a decent dinner. 

The owner of the estate was a rich entrepreneur, who lived a slightly shady existence, never being photographed or giving interviews about his many and varied business interests. This had led to 'Howard Hughes' type myths surrounding him. 

"I wonder if he keeps all his fingernail clippings." Will mused during lunch.

"I hope so. He can replace mine," Rhonda said, seriously.

"Don't worry, Rhonda. I'm sure Daddy will buy you some nice new nails." Gwyneth quipped. She liked Rhonda really, even though the blonde's vacuity annoyed her sometimes. Gwyneth, with her untidy red hair and genuinely tatty jeans had never quite mastered the art of looking ladylike in all her thirty-five years, whereas Rhonda managed it even dressed in her oldest clothes (which were generally less than three months old anyway).

"Daddy," Rhonda sulked, "has cut up my credit card. How will I manage on my student loan?"

"The same way as the rest of us manage. Beans on toast and home-made wine." Will told her.

"And that's why I never stand downwind of Will," Rhonda teased.

"Oh, don't." Gwyneth laughed. "I've still got the hangover and tummy ache from that dandelion wine you made at Christmas, Will."

The friends teased and tormented each other for a while longer, all feeling reluctant to begin yet another futile search. They were unaware that, as they laughed and generally mucked around, a tall man stood watching them. He looked at his watch, and then at the team. It was only two o'clock. There was another couple of hours to go yet.

Eventually, the team resumed work, digging lazily. They were not used to rushing archaeological work, and even the thought of only having two weeks to complete the search didn't hasten their endeavours. 

It happened at four o'clock, just as the man had known it would. It had begun to rain half an hour earlier. The distant roar of thunder could be heard across the valley. Far off lightening illuminated the early evening sky. Now the thunder and lightening was directly over the archaeological team, and they were discussing amongst themselves whether to finish for the day when Gwyneth pranged her shovel into what felt like solid rock, only as a flash of lightening lit up the ground around her, the rock shone like silver. There was a sudden connection between the lightening, Gwyneth, the shovel and the silver rock on the ground. She screamed, and then was gone, the ground sucking her downwards.

"Gwyneth!" Will and Rhonda called out together. They fell to the ground in unison, scrabbling among the dirt, desperately trying to find the hole that had swallowed their friend. It was no use. They couldn't find it. Rhonda sobbed on Will's shoulder. He slammed his own shovel into the ground just as another flash of lightening illuminated the sky. There was another connection between the various elements, and then Will and Rhonda, clinging to each other for dear life, were also sucked into the ground.

"So it begins," said the tall man, watching from the top of the valley.


	2. Arrival in Middle Earth

Project Rivendell Part Two  
  
(A/N: I owe the information that elves wear nothing under their robes to Liv Tyler, who mentioned it in an interview once.)  
  
Gwyneth was dreaming about her father again. He was sitting on the edge of her bed, telling her tales of Rivendell and the elves who lived there. He always spoke as if he had inside knowledge of these magical people, about their customs and their language. There were others in his stories; hobbits, orcs and kings. There was some great battle, over a magical ring, that her father spoke about as though he had seen it first hand.  
  
Then she was sitting in a church, listening to a priest talk over her father's coffin, about what a brave soldier he was, having fought in many conflicts. Gwyneth felt the tears well in her eyes, and a tight lump constrict her throat. Much good his bravery did her, now that she was left alone. Her mother had died giving birth to her, so her childhood had been spent moving from one country to another, as her father was posted according to whatever troubles were happening in the world at the time.  
  
Colonel James Hadley's final conflict had taken place in the first Gulf War, when he and several of his men had been gone missing in action.  
  
Gwyneth didn't want to think of that. It made her cry to think of all she had lost. She tried to take her dream back to the stories about the elves and hobbits. Not the orcs though. She was aware that they were evil creatures. Better to think of nice things. She was drowsily aware of lying on a nice soft, but very short, bed. She had to curl her knees to keep her feet from hanging over the end.  
  
"Is she awake yet Sam?"  
  
Gwyneth twitched her nose in her sleep. No, she wasn't awake and she didn't want to be, thank you very much.  
  
"Not yet, Frodo. She's a strange looking woman though, isn't she?"  
  
She wished that whoever was speaking would be quiet. And how dare he call her strange?!  
  
"How can you say that, after all that we've seen?"  
  
"I don't know. She just looks odd. Her clothes and that. Women don't wear trousers. She's not an elf, that's for sure. She isn't tall enough, but she don't look like no human woman I've ever seen either. Not that I've seen many close up, apart from Lady Eowyn."  
  
"We'll contact Gandalf and see if he can solve the mystery. Hush now Sam and let her sleep. "  
  
Yes, hush now Sam, thought Gwyneth. Let me sleep...  
  
***********************************************  
  
As Gwyneth was trying to sleep, Will was waking up. He too was lying on a soft bed, only this one was more than long enough for his six foot frame. He opened his eyes and saw a tall, regal figure standing at the foot of the bed.  
  
"Welcome, sir, to the house of Elrond."  
  
"Is that some supermarket in Wales?" Will asked, still dazed and confused.  
  
"We have no idea what a supermarket or Wales is," said the man watching him, a quizzical look in his large blue eyes. He was rather stern in appearance, though not unkind, and dressed in fine robes, with long dark hair that was tied back and encircled by a small silver crown. He was Lord Elrond. "You are in the house of Elrond." He repeated. "Your wife, Lady Rhonda, is safe and well." There was something hopeful about the way Elrond said 'wife'.  
  
"My wife? She isn't my wife." Will tried to sit up. He was surprised to see that his own clothes had been taken and he was dressed in a fine, gossamer robe. He also became acutely aware that he was naked beneath the robe.  
  
"She is not? Oh, I thought...never mind." Said Elrond.  
  
"What about Gwyneth?"  
  
"Gwyneth?"  
  
"She fell into the hole first. I take it we're in Wonderland," said Will, catching on quickly that he most certainly was not in Wales anymore.  
  
"Wonderland? No, you are in Rivendell."  
  
"No shit!" said Will. He must be dreaming. That's all that could account for this. He stumbled out of bed as elegantly as possible. Walking in a robe was not as easy as he thought. He tripped over it twice on his way to the window. Not that there were any windows in this building. Everything was made of wood, the walls, the floors, the furniture, and the openings at the side of the buildings were just that. Openings. Outside, Rivendell appeared to be in the grip of autumn. Leaves were falling from the trees, and there seemed to be no one around to sweep them up.  
  
"Where is everyone?" asked Will.  
  
"Most of my people have left for the undying land." Elrond informed him. "My daughter lives in Gondor with her husband, King Aragorn, and their child. My grandson." There was a hint of pride in Elrond's voice.  
  
"You don't look old enough to have a grandson." Will meant it. Elrond looked no older than about forty years old, though when Will looked more closely at him, he did have a timeless air to his features as though he may have lived for many years longer.  
  
Elrond didn't answer. He realised that this young man would probably not believe him. Wherever he and his companion had fallen from (they had been found in the river on Rivendell's borders), they were clearly not of Middle Earth.  
  
"We need to find Gwyneth." Said Will. "She was hit by lightening. I think we all were."  
  
"I see." Elrond nodded. Such things were not unknown to him. "I will send one of my scouts to see if she has arrived anywhere else in Middle Earth."  
  
"Middle Earth? You mean Tolkein and all that shit?" Will shook his head. "Hang on, did you say we were in Rivendell? That's what we were looking for, when we were digging. We're archaeologists."  
  
"I see." Elrond said again. "So, you are from the future?"  
  
Will was surprised at this man's propensity to take astounding facts so calmly. Then he looked at Elrond more closely and saw his ears. They were pointed.  
  
"Okay, so we're not in Rivendell, we're on Vulcan right?" asked Will, convinced now that he was dreaming after all. "Beam me up Scotty and all that..." 


	3. Dreams and aspirations

Project Rivendell Part Three  
  
(note: the event of Celebrian's death is my own invention, though I have tried to link it to the little I know of her history. She had to be out of the way for the purpose of my story!)  
  
Rhonda was having a great tim. Unlike Will and Gwyneth, she had taken her fall into Middle Earth in her stride. She felt that she was in her natural place among the elves. Once she had persuaded them that she couldn't possibly live without her push-up bra, that is. She didn't mind the long elegant robes, but she drew the line at being completely naked beneath them. The elven women who helped to dress her had looked with interest (and some distaste) at her thong.  
  
Rhonda had not been there long enough to worry how she would manage without her make up and manicures. Seeing the beautifully dressed and coiffured elven women, she assumed that there was some sort of elf shopping mall, with salons and boutiques somewhere in Rivendell. The concept of natural beauty was not in Rhonda's vocabulary. Neither had she realised that she did not have her anti-depressants with her. She had been taking them since her parents divorce when she was about twelve, having been prescribed them by an unscrupulous private doctor. At the moment she was too interested in everything around her to remember that she was depressed.  
  
Naturally drawn to the most powerful man in the vicinity, Rhonda asked many questions about Elrond. He was a widower, the elves told her. His wife had sailed away to the West, but had died of grief over some dreadful events that had happened to her in a place called Mordor. Mordor, the elves assured Rhonda, no longer existed. They started telling her about some ring and little people called hobbits, but she had lost interest by then.  
  
Only Elrond interested Rhonda, much to his mortification. The long separation between Elrond and his wife had gone some way to lessening the grief he felt at her death, but he was still in no hurry to find another wife.  
  
That night, at dinner, Will gladly listened to the tales of the Fellowship of the Ring, whilst Rhonda did her best to interest Elrond.  
  
"So, Elrond, what do you like to do? Can I call you El?" asked Rhonda. "Or is it Ron?"  
  
"It is Elrond." He replied. Even the hobbits weren't this crass.  
  
"Elrond it is. Oh, if we married, I'd be Rhonda Elrond. A bit of a mouthful don't you think?"  
  
"Actually, you would be Rhonda Peredhil," said Legolas, who was visiting Rivendell with his friend, Gimli. Legolas was made silent by an imperious glance from Elrond. He and Gimli laughed quietly together in a corner as Rhonda did her best to attract Elrond.  
  
"As I was saying," said Rhonda, casting Legolas an interested glance. She would deal with him later. "what is it that you like to do, Elrond?"  
  
"Do?" Elrond was thrown by this question. What he did was rule his people and heal the sick. Sometimes he wrote poetry and songs, but he did not wish to share this fact with Rhonda. Suddenly his own life seemed empty to him. He had not fought in the battle for Middle Earth, though he had helped in anyway he could. His last battle had been at Isildur's side. He enjoyed riding his horses, and tending his garden, or reading books from his vast library. But he didn't actually 'do' anything anymore. His only life was in the service of his people, until such time as they all left for the undying lands, but he had a feeling that this strange woman from the future would not understand that. She was a reminder of all the things he had once disliked about men. Their vanity, their greed, their belief that the whole world revolved around them.  
  
"Are you very rich?" asked Rhonda.  
  
"I do not seek riches." Said Elrond, sternly. "My people are a simple people. We live well, we eat well, but we do not strive for gain. That is man's disease. Not ours."  
  
"But that crown around your head must be worth a fair whack." Will cut in. He had been wandering around Rivendell since he awoke and was amazed by the riches that were left lying around on tables or on the wooden verandas. Silver and gold plates, crystal glass, swords with priceless stones, along with artefacts that looked ancient even in Elrond's time (and Will still hadn't quite worked out exactly what time they were in). There were no doors on any of the houses, so anyone could have come in and stolen them, yet no one did.  
  
"As I said, we do not measure our worth by our belongings," Elrond told him. "You will see the same artefacts in any one of the houses belonging to my people."  
  
Will blushed. It was almost as if Elrond had read his mind. He hadn't. He had just been told by other elves that Will was taking a special interest in the items on show. They had asked their Lord whether they should move their belongings for safety, but Elrond had said:  
  
"No, we must trust these humans from another time until they give us reason not to." He too was waiting to confer with Gandalf as to what steps could be taken about the strangers.  
  
"So if everyone is equal, what do you have to live for?" asked Will.  
  
"I did not say we were all equal. We have our hierarchy and our laws, just as men do. But we live long lives, so we strive for different goals than mere gold or power. We strive for education, for a peaceful life, and for the means to heal wounds."  
  
"What about sex?" asked Rhonda, looking at Legolas rather than Elrond, as she spoke.  
  
"I do not understand the question." Said Elrond.  
  
"Do elves have sexual intercourse?"  
  
"For God's sake, Rhonda!" Will exclaimed. "You're talking to a Lord here."  
  
"Yes, Lady Rhonda, elves have sexual intercourse." Elrond replied, almost amused, though they wouldn't have known it from his stern face. "It is how we procreate. We are built as men are built in that respect, but as we live long lives, it is not an overriding force with us as it is with men. We have plenty of time to get it right."  
  
"Don't you just have sex for fun then?" asked Rhonda, still looking at Legolas, who was actually beginning to look very worried. "I mean, one night stands and all that?"  
  
"One night stands?" Elrond had clearly never heard the term. A strange image flashed through his mind of people standing up all night, having sex. It sounded very uncomfortable.  
  
"She means just having sex with a stranger once, then never seeing them again." Will informed him, wishing that Rhonda would just shut up.  
  
"I see." Was all Elrond replied. He knew that he didn't have one night stands, but he could not speak for the rest of his people. He assumed that most of the elven maidens were virgins until they married. Then he remembered his own youth, thousands of years earlier, and the times, before marrying Celebrian, when he had taken elven maidens (one at a time of course!) to his bed after the heat of battle had made the adrenaline pump through his veins. His body was all heat then, and he had almost burned up in its flames.  
  
Somehow, even though the couplings were fleeting, he had not thought of them as transient. Both he and the maiden in question had left the experience with their dignity and friendship intact. Some of those same elven women were among the people still with him, though married to other elves. But Rhonda had made it sound cheap and nasty.  
  
The other elves sitting around the dinner table were looking very interested in the concept Rhonda had presented. Elrond made a silent vow to get Rhonda back to her own time before she managed to corrupt his entire race. 


	4. Legolas' education

Project Rivendell Part Four  
  
(A/N: Polly is my invention, and just an excuse to give Pippin a bit of love interest and bring him to the Prancing Pony to see Gandalf. Remember this is AU. However, she could be the missing link between humans and hobbits!)  
  
It was a busy night in the Prancing Pony, making it difficult for new customers to find a place to sit. Luckily the two men sitting in the corner had got there early, and were deep in conversation. If the others in the inn had heard their conversation then they might have been very worried. The battle for Middle Earth was still fresh in everyone's minds. But then again, in this area, a murder that took place 300 years previously was still classed as news.  
  
"And you believe the orcs are regrouping?" said Gandalf the White, taking a long draw on his pipe.  
  
"I believe that there are some out there. Not enough to take over Middle Earth, but certainly enough to make life difficult. There is already talk that they have gone into villages and caused havoc. Women have been defiled by them... and there are more rumours of cannibalism..." The man speaking to Gandalf was known as Connel, and he was a ranger. He was a solitary man, even by rangers' standards. He had few friends, no known home, and slept wherever his horse stopped late at night. He was old, much older than King Aragorn, yet when he walked he had a quickness of step, and a strong purpose. His hair was dark and untidy, as was most rangers' hair, and his beard grizzled, shot through with grey. His eyes however, were vivid grey, and alert to all danger. He had a habit of disappearing for years on end, then returning looking exactly as he had always looked.  
  
"You don't need to say more. I can imagine the rest," said Gandalf, looking worried. He closed his eyes for a second, as was his way when he was ruminating. "How many?"  
  
"Around a thousand." Replied Connel. "It is said that they hid from the fighting when the battle for Middle Earth began. Cowards every one of them. Now, so the rumours say, they want redress for the deaths of their compatriots."  
  
"Orcs don't grieve." Gandalf shook his head.  
  
"Weren't they elves once?" asked Connel.  
  
"Yes, but they turned bad, became animal in nature. There is very little of the elf mentality left in them. They do not share the same emotions or loyalties. They have tasted human and elf flesh." Gandalf shuddered. "No, there is something else behind this. Or someone else. I must go and see Aragorn, and Elrond. I wonder if Elrond is visiting his daughter, the Lady Arwen. It would be easier if he was."  
  
Gandalf and Connel talked for a while longer, while supping on a tankard of ale each. As they talked, a hobbit entered the Prancing Pony. He looked around, then smiled in delight when he saw Gandalf.  
  
"Gandalf!"  
  
Gandalf looked up from his ale, and saw a familiar face.  
  
"Pippin!" He stood up and greeted the young hobbit. "What brings you to the Prancing Pony? Is it young Polly who works behind the bar?" Gandalf winked at his young friend. Polly was a human, but short compared to the rest of her people. Pippin had had a crush on her for some time.  
  
"No." Pippin blushed. "Well...perhaps. But I've been looking for you too. Someone told me you were to meet a ranger here." Pippin looked at Connel. Rangers didn't scare Pippin, not since Strider.  
  
"Are there no secrets on Middle Earth?" Gandalf asked, wryly. It was a rhetorical question.  
  
"No, none," Pippin said, cheerfully. "Anyway, before I forget, there's a woman, a human, with Frodo. In his house I mean. She fell out of the sky or something. Or did Sam just find her lying in the road? I forget how it happened. Anyway, we don't know where she came from and she hasn't woken up yet, so she needs some help. And so does Frodo. I think he's got a crush on her, even though she's asleep. All the hobbits keep going in to look at her, which is annoying him a bit. Can you go and help? I'm going to get a pint."  
  
And with that Pippin was gone to chat up Polly.  
  
"A woman falling out of the sky?" said Gandalf, pondering.  
  
"She probably wandered there after being injured or something," suggested Connel.  
  
"Of course. People don't just fall out of the sky, do they Connel?" Gandalf smiled at his companion, who smiled back.  
  
********************************************* One month later:  
  
Rhonda and Will had been in Rivendell for a month, slowly getting their bearings, and learning about the strange creatures that tended them.  
  
Rhonda, despite the calm surroundings, was now beginning to miss her anti- depressants. She tried calming herself with the delicious elven wine, drinking copious amounts at dinner. It was in this state that she happened upon Legolas whilst walking back to her bedroom in Elrond's house.  
  
He was sitting in a small courtyard, smoking a pipe, and listening to some music that was playing softly in one of the houses. His friend Gimli had said goodnight several minutes earlier.  
  
"Legolas." Rhonda giggled. "You're just the elf I was looking for."  
  
"I was?" Legolas looked puzzled. He had been trying to avoid Rhonda for several weeks. Now, however, having drunk a couple of glasses of wine himself, and feeling mellowed by the pipe, he found her quite attractive. Her hair, he had to admit, was strangely coloured. Her dark roots had been in need of tending before she fell into Rivendell, and were now longer than ever, accentuating the line, about three inches down her head, where her blonde tint began. There was something about Rivendell that assisted in the growth of her hair, even in such a short space of time. It had been shoulder length, but was now touching the bottom of her shoulder blades. Even her nails had grown more quickly, and were much stronger than they had ever been, removing the need for the lacquered extensions, which was just as well as they had begun to fall off through lack of care.  
  
"I was looking for you because, well to be honest, I haven't had a good shag for a month or more." Rhonda giggled, wobbling along the soft grass towards him.  
  
"Shag? Do you mean a pipe?" The only shag Legolas had heard of was a type of tobacco.  
  
"Why don't you come with me, and I'll show you?" Rhonda suggested to the young elf, who, even though he was many years older than Rhonda, felt much younger, and more inexperienced.  
  
She led him to a shaded grove that she had found during her exploration of Rivendell. She wanted somewhere away from Elrond's house, as she still had hopes of snaring the Elf lord in order to increase her own status in Rivendell. If she was going to be stuck here, she intended to do so as nobility.  
  
"Now, young elf..." Rhonda purred, reaching up to kiss Legolas softly on the lips. "What is your pleasure?"  
  
"I...er..." Legolas felt himself becoming aroused as her tongue slipped between his lips, while her hand softly crept down his body to find his already stiffening manhood.  
  
"Let's start by removing these cumbersome robes, shall we?" she suggested, dropping her own to the floor in an instant. She stood silhouetted in the moonlight, her naked body taut and tanned (fake).  
  
Legolas was trembling now, partly with fear and partly with excitement. He had never met a woman quite as forward as Rhonda, and being young, he was powerless to resist. He dropped his own robes, to reveal a muscled, toned body that made Rhonda gasp, as did the strength of his erection. She surprised him by dropping to her knees, and taking him into her mouth, working him with long strokes of her tongue.  
  
"Please, Lady Rhonda." Legolas protested weakly. His mind felt that this should not be happening, though his body was telling him otherwise.  
  
"Ooh, you said please... how sweet." Rhonda said, with her mouth still full of him. She worked on him until he came, crying out in the night. Then she looked up and smiled at him.  
  
"My turn." She whispered. She lay flat on her back, with her legs apart, beckoning him to taste her centre. Still shaking from his own orgasm, Legolas dropped to his knees and then did as she bid, teasing her with long strokes of his tongue and slipping his fingers deep into her. She began writhing and moaning, but just stopped short of climaxing.  
  
"Is this not good, my lady?" he asked, breathlessly after trying to bring her to completion for at least twenty minutes.  
  
"Mmm, it's lovely. Just keep going," said Rhonda. She did not tell him that she never climaxed, and probably wouldn't for him either.  
  
Instead of continuing to pleasure her with his tongue and fingers, Legolas, who was now becoming aroused again, pulled her legs apart and placed himself between them, slipping easily into her. He taught himself quickly to understand the rhythm of her moans, quickening his pace when she moaned the most, then moving more slowly when she seemed to lose the momentum, until he once again coaxed her to pleasure. Finally, after he was sure he would explode more than once, before she had found her pleasure, he got her where he wanted her, right on the edge of an orgasm. Before she could stop herself again, he thrust more rapidly into her, pulling her hips up to meet his thrusts. Then he felt the soft flutter of her orgasm beginning, and released his own.  
  
Rhondas cries of release could be heard in the house of Elrond... 


	5. Gwyneth awakens, Rhonda's disgrace

Project Rivendell Part Five  
  
(A/N: because it suits my purpose, I am using the travelling times (roughly) used in the books - I've read a bit of the first book - rather than in the movie. Anyone who has read the books will know that the hobbits did not reach the Prancing Pony in one day, as suggested in the film. It took several days, or weeks - and it was actually 17 years after Bilbo Baggins left that Frodo followed him to Rivendell! Also, Isaldur and Anondir, the elves, are my own invention and Isaldur is not to be confused with Isildur, the king.)  
  
*****************************************8  
  
Gwyneth stood, or rather stooped, in the doorway to Frodo's home. She had actually been awake several weeks, but Pippin had left before she awoke, and had not yet returned. She had learned from Frodo that Pippin had gone to seek help for her problems, both being unconscious, and being trapped in Middle Earth. When he had not returned after a day or two, Gwyneth had asked Frodo if it were possible that Pippin was injured.  
  
"No, Gwyneth. Don't worry." Frodo had just poured her a cup of tea, and given her a slice of fruit cake. "It takes a week or two to get to the Prancing Pony, and a week or two to return. Then if he's been distracted by Polly..."  
  
Frodo left that bit hanging. But he left Gwyneth in no doubt that time moved much more slowly in Middle Earth.  
  
There was proof of that as Gwyneth watched the hobbits going about their daily business. No one rushed to the fields, and no one rushed back at night. She had come to admire this pre-industrial society, based on hard work, friendship and honour. No one cared about being rich, or powerful. People only cared about each other. There were the odd spats of course, as among all friends, but differences were settled in a quiet way. Someone always conceded, even if they might be in the wrong.  
  
Only Frodo seemed apart from it all. There was no doubt that he loved his fellow hobbits, particularly Sam and his already extensive family (she wondered exactly what the hobbit gestation period was), but he had told her about the ring, and its effect on him. He felt like a stranger in his own home now. The Shire could no longer contain his restless spirit. Gwyneth already liked Frodo very much. But what was there not to like about him?  
  
Gwyneth stepped out of the door and stretched. Though not as vain as Rhonda, Gwyneth had spent most of her life since her early teens on one diet or another, as was the 21st century way. She had also been something of a tomboy, a fact accentuated by her angular frame. Now, because of the delicious food Frodo prepared for her, such as roast chicken, roast potatoes apple pies, treacle tarts and custards (luckily the hobbit portions were fairly small), she had begun to fill out a little. She was by no means fat, but her hips and breasts were a little more rounded and womanly. Because she had grown out of her own clothes, a hobbit lady had made her a long skirt of soft felt material, covered in tiny blue forget-me- nots, and a pretty white blouse, with ruffles on the collar. There were several more pretty dresses hanging in the wardrobe in the bedroom Frodo had given over to her. Her hair had also grown quickly, so her wavy auburn locks were now brushing the collar of her blouse. She was beginning to feel like the heroine of a Barbara Cartland romance, and was more concerned that the fact didn't really bother her. All she needed now was a tall, handsome hero. Unfortunately, there weren't many of those in the Shire. She laughed quietly at her own fancy. What she needed was something to do! She had embraced this quiet life far too easily.  
  
"Gwyneth! Breakfast is ready." Frodo called from the kitchen. She was sure they had just eaten dinner, then remembered that this was probably second breakfast. Sam had kindly explained the different hobbit meals to her, and she had felt full just at the thought of all those dinners. Never mind. She was feeling quite peckish...  
  
********************************  
  
Rhonda stood in the courtyard at Rivendell, smiling up at another elf, whose name was Isaldur. They had spent the previous night together, pretty much going over the same ground she had with Legolas. Rhonda had arrived at breakfast with Will that morning, giggling and saying:  
  
"These elves can go all bloody night, you know?"  
  
"I'm so happy for you." Will said dryly.  
  
Isaldur was, like Legolas, tall and young, in elf years anyway, but whereas Legolas' hair was silver, Isaldur's was black, giving him the appearance of a hawk.  
  
"It was good babes, but life moves on, you know?" Rhonda was saying to Isaldur now.  
  
"But Lady Rhonda. I wrote a poem for you." The young elf looked hurt.  
  
"Oh ... did you? That was nice." Rhonda said, awkwardly. What was it with these elves and poetry? Legolas had also written her a ream of poetry after the night she spent with him. So far she had avoided him. It was all too embarrassing. Now she knew she could get orgasms with any elf, she was determined to try them all out. What a story she would have to tell the Sloane Street girls when she returned home.  
  
As they were talking, Legolas arrived in the courtyard, and dismounted his horse. He had been about to leave with Gimli, but wanted to see Rhonda one more time.  
  
"Lady Rhonda?" Legolas said, shyly. "I wish to talk to you. I have not been able to see you since the other night. I wanted to tell you of my feelings for you. How I esteem you above all others."  
  
Another elf, called Anondir, stepped out of the shadows. He had been one of Rhonda's conquests, and had caught on very quickly that she was working her way through his people.  
  
"You are wasting your time, Legolas, as are you Isaldur. She has nothing about her to esteem. She is no lady."  
  
"Take that back!" raged Legolas, "Or you will answer for it."  
  
"She is mine!" Isaldur interrupted. "Leave her Legolas. I am the Lady Rhonda's protector. Anondir will answer to me!"  
  
"Then you will answer to me." Legolas turned on Isaldur.  
  
The three elves began to fight among themselves, watched by a delighted Rhonda. This was better than anything that had happened to her so far.  
  
Legolas thumped Isaldur, Isaldur thumped him back, and Anondir poked them both. Gimli, on Legolas' side, joined in with a swift kick in Anondir's knee. Isaldur jumped on Legolas' back, kicking Gimli in the head as Legolas spun him around. There was shouting and screaming from the other elves, some encouraging the fight, and others dismayed that it had come to this.  
  
"Silence!" a stern voice rang out in the courtyard. "Stop this immediately!"  
  
They all stopped, and turned to see Lord Elrond watching the fray. His face was contorted in rage, an emotion he seldom allowed himself to feel.  
  
Legolas straightened his tunic, and Isaldur and Anondir tidied themselves. Only Gimli was still fighting, kicking them both.  
  
"Gimli!" A new voice this time. It was Gandalf, who had just arrived at Rivendell.  
  
"Leave them alone. They're only letting off steam." Said Rhonda, disappointed that no blood had been shed for her.  
  
"I will talk to you in my study!" Elrond told Rhonda. He had heard about her behaviour for the past few days, and had been expecting some explosion, but to see his people at each other's throats was devastating to him.  
  
"I am afraid there is no time." Gandalf said, looking at Rhonda with some distaste. "Elrond, there is trouble. I am on my way to Gondor to see Aragorn. You had better come with me." 


	6. Will's Deceit Hobbits Action

Project Rivendell Part Six  
  
(A/N locating Rivendell in Wales is my idea, and not based on anything from the films or books. It just fits in with my story.)  
  
While Rhonda was creating chaos among the elves, Will had other concerns. He had spent the past few weeks trying to figure out how Rivendell fit in with the Welsh landscape they had left. He became certain that he recognised a few of the valleys and rock formations in Rivendell. There had been some erosion by the time they had begun digging in the 21st century, but he was able to make out the pattern of erosion. He had what he thought was a good reason for doing this. He needed to find a hiding place for the things he had begun to collect.  
  
He finally settled on a place behind the waterfall, which he was convinced was the area where they had been digging. Over the course of a few weeks, he began moving objects there, with the belief that, should he return to his own time, he would be able to find them easily and make a fortune from their sale to museums and private collectors. That way, he reasoned, he would be able to pay off his student loan and live like a king. Nothing that the elves left lying around was safe from Will's grasp, be it swords, shields or simple knives and forks. The elves were so trusting that, as far as Will could tell, they didn't even notice the missing objects. In fact there were odd times when he had admired a piece of jewellery or a picture, and the elf in possession of it had generously made him a gift of the object of his desire. It was like taking candy from a baby. Occasionally Will felt a pang of guilt, because the elves were so generous and giving, but mostly he convinced himself that as they didn't miss the items he took, then it was obvious that they didn't really need them.  
  
One day, Will was struggling with a particularly heavy bag of loot, when the elf Anondir offered his help. It did not occur to Anondir to mistrust Will, despite Rhonda's recent behaviour. Will gladly accepted Anondir's help to take the bag of loot to his hiding place behind the waterfall. If Anondir was surprised to see the collection of artefacts hidden in the cave under the waterfall, he kept it to himself. He was, however, curious as to why Will needed them.  
  
"Well, you see," Will lied. "I've bought them off the other elves. I'm going to hide them here, then when I get back to my own time, they'll be worth hundreds of times more than I paid for them." He had, of course, paid nothing for them, but Anondir did not think to doubt his word.  
  
"Why is it that you and the Lady Rhonda place so much importance on riches?" asked Anondir. Anondir had started to feel bad about dishonouring Rhonda to Legolas and Isaldur. He was very inexperienced with women (though Rhonda had taught him a thing or two!), and had reacted immaturely. He realised that now.  
  
"Well, modern life is expensive." Replied Will. "You've got to have the right car, the right cell phone, best hi-fi system. Then there's clothes." Will surprised himself by mentioning all this. He had not realised how materialistic he was until this moment. He had thought that was only Rhonda's problem.  
  
"And why do you need these things?" asked Anondir, hardly understanding some of the things Will mentioned.  
  
"To be popular, to make friends, so people like you. Look Anondir, I'm a black kid from the ghetto ... well alright, maybe not the ghetto, but from the wrong side of town. I was brought up in a block of flats with about two hundred other black families all vying for space. No one ever expected me to do well at school, so I didn't. They - the white middle class teachers who taught me - expected me to become a drug pusher, or a pimp, or an armed robber, but there was no way I was going to do that. My mother brought me up right, and I'll fight with anyone who says different. I ended up selling real estate ...houses and the like. But I hated that, because it only reminded me of the sort of houses I would never get to live in. So I thought I'd become an archaeologist and perhaps find some Roman coins or something. Make my mint that way. It's better than what people expected me to do, which was to become a thief or a pusher."  
  
Only Will had become a thief, he realised now, as he spoke to Anondir. He had stolen from a people who had never questioned the colour of his skin, or had preconceived ideas about him because of it. He pushed the thought aside. What did it matter? In the future they would not be alive to miss the things he had taken (though they had tried to explain the concept of their immortality to him). And he hadn't actually stolen the stuff. They were still on elf land, only hidden. Who knew whether or not the elves would find them long before he did? In this way, he talked himself out of feeling guilty.  
  
"Will ...," said Anondir, who had only understood half of what Will had told him, but had managed to grasp the gist of Will's statement. "I am your friend. I like you. You do not need to be rich to keep my friendship." The young elf held out his hand to Will, and Will took it tentatively.  
  
"Yeah...er thanks." Said Will, suddenly feeling very bad about himself.  
  
****************************************** As Elrond and Gandalf were riding towards Gondor, with Connell the ranger as their guide, Pippin was returning to the Shire. He was surprised to see the human woman awake and smiling at him from Frodo's garden.  
  
"It's Pippin, isn't it?" said Gwyneth. "I recognised you from Frodo and Sam's description."  
  
"Yes, Lady ...er..." Pippin blushed. She was very pretty. Prettier than Polly, if that were possible. And almost as lovely as Arwen, though Pippin had yet to meet the elven maiden's equal.  
  
"Gwyneth. My name is Gwyneth."  
  
"Well Gwyneth. I'm afraid I bring you bad news. Gandalf cannot come. There is trouble. I must see Frodo!" Pippin exclaimed suddenly, as though the urgency of his message only just occurred to him.  
  
"I am here, Pippin." Frodo came out of the front door of Bag End. "What is it?"  
  
"Gandalf can't come. He is riding to Rivendell then on to Gondor, hopefully with Lord Elrond and the ranger, Connell. The orcs have regrouped and are threatening Middle Earth again. I should have come sooner, but sometimes things seem so quiet here that I forget all the things that can happen."  
  
Despite the fact that it was only a year or two since the battle for Middle Earth, Pippin and most of the other hobbits had fallen into a false sense of security, due to being back within the safe confines of the Shire. Only Frodo remained wary. The darkness was deep inside him, and he never forgot it, not even under the influence of beer.  
  
"The orcs?!" Frodo exclaimed, though his face suddenly looked animated and excited again. "This is terrible. I think we should help our friends."  
  
"What, travel to Gondor?" asked Pippin.  
  
"Yes, we'll go to Gondor. Me, you, Merry and Sam. We've fought orcs before, and I still have my knife that Bilbo gave me."  
  
"That sounds like a plan! I'll go and get Merry" said Sam, rounding the corner of Frodo's house. He hadn't really been eavesdropping again, but it was difficult not to hear things when they were said while you were listening.  
  
"Just a minute." Gwyneth stopped them before they ran into Frodo's house to plan their journey. "What about me?"  
  
"Oh, This is not woman's work. You'd best wait here until we return, Lady Gwyneth. " said Sam, who worked on the basis that all human women were of noble birth.  
  
"I don't think so." Said Gwyneth. "I need to see this wizard, Gandalf, to see if he can get me back to my own time. I can't wait while you go and fight the orcs. I'll come with you. And as for whether it's woman's work, Sam Gamgee, I can see I shall have to educate you about feminism on our trip to, where is it? Gondor?"  
  
The three hobbits looked at each other, then at Gwyneth. She was far too big for them all to overwhelm (and she was a lady, which meant they couldn't possibly knock her out), so they shrugged and agreed to take her with them. 


	7. Bridge Over Troubled Water

Project Rivendell Part Seven

A/N Thanks to the kind reviewers who liked this story. It looks like being an epic, so I hope you'll all want to stick with it. 

A/N2: The song 'Bridge Over Troubled Water' belongs to Simon and Garfunkel, I've only written as much of it as I can remember at one sitting. I felt that it fit in with the friendship of the hobbits (and Gwyneth), and carries on the tradition of including songs in the story that Tolkein began.

*****************************************************

Bridge over Troubled Water

It took about a week for Frodo and the other hobbits to arrange their departure from the Shire. Gwyneth, though feeling impatient, filled the waiting time by writing down all that she had learned about the hobbits. Frodo had provided her with a leather bound notebook and some writing implements, which she intended on taking with her on her travels, so that she could write about any other new and wonderful creatures she met along the way. Sam suggested she call it 'My time among the hobbits', but Gwyneth was hoping to come up with a more exciting title than that if she wanted to sell it in her own time.

Finally, on the Saturday, Sam, Merry and Pippin arrived at Frodo's door with four hobbit ponies loaded up with provisions, and a larger sized pony for Gwyneth. She looked at it with some trepidation, as the only time she had ever ridden a horse was at a small riding school as a child, when she had never got above a trot, due to her innate fear of horses. She did not want to appear cowardly in front of the brave hobbits, so she swallowed hard and climbed onto the pony. Luckily, it was rather docile (or it could have been sleeping, she was not sure which), so she was able to follow the hobbits as they rode through the Shire, heading for the Brandywine river. They intended to follow it to the sea, and then follow the seashore towards Gondor. 

Gwyneth had managed to persuade the hobbit seamstress to make her a pair of riding breeches, with a matching jacket, though it went against everything the seamstress believed to put a woman in trousers. Gwyneth was nervous enough about riding, let alone riding side saddle whilst wearing a skirt, so she had implored the good lady to heed her wishes. She felt quite comfortable in her riding 'habit', though the seamstress had had to give it a patchwork effect, since she was not used to dealing with such large swathes of fabric. So it was that Gwyneth rode out looking something like a harlequin, in patches of brown, gold and bronze. She was unaware of it, but it looked quite effective with her auburn curls, that had grown longer still. 

As they travelled, the hobbits told her even more about the war of the Ring. She had heard much of it, but it seemed every day that something they had forgotten occurred to them. She learned about the elves, and the mines of Moria. At night, when they settled down to eat and sleep, she wrote down everything they had told her in the book, as well as some songs that they taught her. 

One night, about a week after they had set out, Sam asked Gwyneth:

"Don't your people sing songs to each other?"

They were camping by the side of the river, the sound of crickets filling the summer air. Gwyneth leaned back against a tree and thought that she could quite happily live here forever. If she were at home now, she would either be digging for artefacts, or spending hours on the phone trying to chase up funding so that she could dig for artefacts. This was a much better type of archaeology, she told herself. Actually living among people from a bygone age, so that they could tell her what different things were for. 

"We have people to sing for us. Pop stars or opera singers." Gwyneth told Sam.

"Sing us one of their songs then." Pippin suggested.

Gwyneth had to think for a while. Her voice wasn't brilliant, but she could just about hold a tune. Unfortunately the only song she could think of at that moment was the latest Kylie Minogue song which had been number one in the charts when she left her own time. She thought that the hobbits might quite like the diminutive pop beauty, but she was not really a fan. She remembered a song her father used to sing to her when she was little, and as she sang it, tears filled her eyes at the memory of all the love he had shown her:

"When you're weary, feeling small

When tears are in your eyes, 

I will dry them all

I'm on your side, oh when times get rough

And pain is all around

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down

When you're down and out

When you're on the street

When evening falls so hard

I will comfort you

I'm take your part

Oh when darkness falls

And friends just can't be found

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down.

Sail on silver girl

Sail on by

Your time has come to shine

All your dreams are on their way

See how they shine

Oh when you need a friend

I'm sailing right behind

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down…"

The hobbits looked at each other, then surreptitiously wiped tears from their eyes. It was one of the nicest songs they had ever heard, even though it didn't mention food and sleeping.

"Sing it again, and teach it to us Lady Gwyneth." Asked Merry. The other hobbits nodded. Yes, they liked that song very much. 

*************************************

Elrond, his twin sons, Gandalf, and the ranger Connell were much further ahead than the hobbits, mainly because they had better horses. They had reached Rohan, and were going to settle there for the night before moving on to Gondor.

They were crossing the plain towards Rohan, and the twins were softly singing an elven song. 

"Your turn…" they said to Connell, who had promised to sing them a song in return for one of theirs.

Connell cleared his throat, then, with tears in his eyes, began singing:

"When you're weary, feeling small

When tears are in your eyes, 

I will dry them all

I'm on your side, oh when times get rough

And pain is all around

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down…."


	8. Rhonda's friend, and a Reunion

Project Rivendell 

Part Eight

Rhonda was drunk again. She staggered across the courtyard in Rivendell, on her way to see Will, who had asked to see her. He had realised that he could no longer ask the elves to help him hide artefacts, so he was planning to enlist Rhonda's help. He knew that once he mentioned money to her, she would comply. She was a spoiled rich girl, but all the money she had was her father's, which he had a tendency to withdraw if he felt she was misbehaving (which was often).

She had changed a little since being at Rivendell. She had managed to persuade one of the elven women to cut her hair, so that it was now its natural chestnut colour, though very short. However, that and the lack of make-up did give her a slightly fresher look. She looked younger than her twenty-two years, whereas before, all the chemicals she had used on her hair and face had given her a dried out look. 

"Lady Rhonda?" It was Anondir, calling to Rhonda from the shadows.

"Well if it isn't my lovely Anondir," Rhonda slurred. 

"I wished to speak with you, My Lady, to ask your forgiveness for dishonouring you with Isaldur and Legolas."

"Okay, you're forgiven." Said Rhonda, not really caring. She had been called worse by men. "Now, what's a nice elf like you doing out alone on a night like this? Do you fancy coming up to my room with me for a drinky poos?"

"Why do you do this?" asked Anondir, falling into step beside her. "Why you give your body so easily?"

"Because it's mine to give. Where I come from, we sleep with who we want."

"Is there no love in your time?" asked Anondir, trying to understand her.

"I suppose so, though no one's going to love me. Men only ever want to shag me."

Anondir had just about picked up the meaning of the word 'shag'.

"Perhaps if you waited, and earned their love before giving them your body," suggested Anondir. 

"Oh yeah, like that's gonna work. Let me tell you about Gwyneth, my boss. She's as frigid as they come. She's hardly ever had any boyfriends, because she won't sleep with them on the first date. Now she's getting really old, she's thirty-five you know," That did not sound old to Anondir, but he did not say so. Rhonda continued, "and she's going to spend the rest of her life alone. I don't want that. One day I'll find someone who loves me enough to stick around." As she spoke, Rhonda's voice became sad. "And I won't end up like my mother, being dumped at the age of forty-five for a new model. That's what my dad did. Dropped her for another woman. My mum did everything for him. She helped him to make his money. Now she's living in a poky studio flat in London, because he could afford better lawyers than her, because of the money she helped him to earn, but she was left with hardly anything. Now I use men, they don't use me." She angrily brushed a tear that had rolled down her cheek. 

"I see," said Anondir, understanding at last. "So now you punish all men for your father's mistake, do you not?"

Rhonda laughed humourlessly.

"Get you, Oprah Winfrey. Aren't you the master of the cod-psychology?"

"Lady Rhonda," said Anondir, "I should very much like to get to know you better. To become your friend."

"Now that's more like it." Said Rhonda. "Come to my room then."

"No, you do not understand. I very much enjoyed lying with you, but I do not want to lie with you again … not until we are sure we wish to bind ourselves to each other."

"That sounds kinky," laughed Rhonda.

"I am not sure what your people call it. The men in Middle Earth call it betrothal."

"Engaged!" squealed Rhonda, incredulously. "You want to get engaged?!"

"Not yet," Anondir sounded flustered. "If we like each other, after we have spent time talking, then perhaps, yes, I should like to bind myself to you. I am sorry that you are so unhappy in your life, and I would like to make you happy. No elf has ever left his wife for another woman. It is unheard of among my people. But that is why we have to be certain."

"Well, let's go and have a drink and talk about it," suggested Rhonda.

"No, please, do not drink. I want to speak to you, not the person you are when you have drunk too much wine. Do you agree?"

The idea sounded novel to Rhonda, though she was not entirely sure she actually wanted to marry Anondir, but it was unusual for any man (or elf) to want to see her again once they'd had sex with her. She nodded tentatively.

************************************************************

Gwyneth and the hobbits had been on the road for what seemed like months, though was actually only a few weeks. They had reached the Isen River, and were contemplating whether to head inland to Rohan and seek sustenance, or whether to cross the River and head straight for Gondor. They were camped by the river, while they give the matter some thought, when Frodo suddenly heard shouting coming from the river. 

"Hallo! Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin and someone we do not know… a very fair someone if I may say so." It was Gimli, and he was in one small boat, with Legolas following behind in a slightly larger boat.

"What brings you down the Isen?" asked Frodo, running to the edge of the bank.

"There is trouble in Gondor. Elrond was called away, and would not say why. He left with Gandalf and his sons, and the ranger, Connell, but we learned the truth. The orcs have regrouped…"

"Yes! Yes, that is where we're going!" the hobbits all cried together. 

"But why do you sail down the Isen?" asked Frodo. 

"We were afraid that Elrond would see us following him. He is such a good tracker, that he also knows when he is being tracked. We decided upon a different route," Legolas explained. "Now, you must all come with us in the boats. We will reach Gondor much quicker than on the land."

"And please introduce us to your lovely friend." Said Gimli, blushing a little as Gwyneth smiled at him.

"This is Gwyneth, and she knows songs about rivers." Pippin told him. It was all they needed to know to understand that Gwyneth was a friend.

***********************************

Elrond and the others who set out from Rivendell had reached Gondor at last. They were visiting with Aragorn in his private chambers, not yet wishing to alert all the people of Gondor to the threat from Mordor. 

The visitors had been in Gondor a couple of weeks, but had spent much of that time recuperating from their journey and renewing old acquaintances. They sat around a large table, which was filled with food that none had felt like eating.

"Can we get an army together?" asked Gandalf. He already knew the answer.

"It will be difficult. We lost many lives in the war of the ring," said Aragorn. He looked to his lovely wife Arwen, who's eyes shone with compassion for those lost. 

"There are a thousand, maybe two thousand orcs," Connell told them. His appearance had altered since Gandalf had met him in the Prancing Pony. He was washed, shaved, and had dressed in finer clothes, though not quite as fine as those worn by Aragorn and his Queen. "We have beaten more enemies with less allies in the past."

"It is sad that we have to go back into battle." The huskily feminine voice that spoke was that of a relative newcomer to the council of friends. Her name was Amebrindra, and she was the woman that Connell loved. Amebrindra was the daughter of a half-elven mother, and human father, so she was more human than elven, though she still had some elven powers, along with their longevity, though she was mortal. Though nearing sixty years of age, she was still very beautiful, with a smooth face that barely showed the years, and long auburn hair, with not a trace of grey. "I have grave misgivings about this particular battle, for there will be a battle." She looked at Connell. 

"She is safe." Connell muttered, mysteriously, and low enough so that no one else heard. 

"I wonder…" Gandalf began to say, but Elrond raised a hand to stop him.

"I know what you are going to say, Gandalf the White, and I think the answer has to be no. While I agree that the Fellowship held a power that was beyond all our reasoning, we cannot ask anymore of those who have already given so much."

"Too late…" a small voice said from the open doorway. "We're here anyway." It was Merry.

The people assembled around the table looked towards the door to see four hobbits, an elf, and a dwarf bursting through it, followed by someone else. Most of the people around the table did not know her, but Connell stood up, and exclaimed:

"Gwyneth!"

Amebrindra gasped, and said 'no' almost inaudibly.

Gwyneth, who had not quite got her bearings, having been escorted through the many corridors of Gondor, was at that moment transfixed by the handsome elf sitting nearest to the door. Elrond turned, and took a deep, sharp breath. 

Then, on hearing her name spoken by a familiar voice, Gwyneth almost collapsed in shock, but managed to steady herself. She moved towards Connell slowly, unable to believe her eyes.

"Dad…" she whispered. "Dad?" 

Gwyneth ran into her father's arms, sobbing.


	9. The Shield of Valir

****

Project Rivendell Part Nine

The Shield of Valir

(A/N: the Shield of Valir is my own invention)

Amebrindra looked emotionally on as her lover embraced their daughter, whom Amebrindra had not seen since she was a babe in arms. The rest of the group merely looked on in wonderment, knowing nothing of Amebrindra and Connell's history. That was a story yet to be told.

It was some time before Gwyneth and Connell were composed enough to sit down at the table with all the others. Gwyneth kept her trembling hand in her father's as he told at least part of the story, though he planned to leave Amebrindra to explain the rest at her discretion. 

Elrond looked at Gwyneth keenly, feeling he knew her from somewhere else. She met his gaze shyly. She too felt a connection, but as far as she knew she had never been to Middle Earth before. Despite that, she had often had a feeling of _déjà vu_ over the past few weeks as she had travelled with the hobbits.

"My real name," Connell began, "is Colonel James Hadley. Hence the name Connell. It is what the people in Middle Earth began to call me when I first introduced myself. I am from the 21st Century, though I doubt that will mean a lot to the people sitting round this table. Many ages have … will have passed by the time I am born. This is my daughter, Gwyneth …" Connell stole a look at Amebrindra, who shook her head imperceptibly. 

"How did you get to Middle Earth from your own time?" asked Gandalf.

"That is a long story," replied Connell. "It involves a dwarf called Valir, and a shield. The Shield of Valir."

Gimli was heard to take a sharp breath. 

"I have only heard of it in legends…" he muttered. "It belonged to one of my ancestors from Moria. His name was Valir, and his shield was made of _mithril_. The only one of its kind…"

"What is _mithril_?" asked Gwyneth.

"It is a precious metal," Elrond explained, "which we elves call _mithril_, though I believe the dwarves have another name for it. It is used to make armour, though it is as light as silk to wear. Nothing that we have on Middle Earth can penetrate it. No sword, no bow, no axe."

"Valir was doing trade in Mordor at the time when Sauron was building his armies to fight against Isildur," Connell continued, nodding towards Elrond. He was aware of the story of Elrond and Isildur's battle. "Dwarfs were not shy about dealing with both sides, and he took his shield with him. Sauron was experimenting with many things that might help his cause. He took a fancy to this shield and wanted to use it to duplicate it for his army, but Valir would not part with it. When Valir had the shield made, he was intending to sell it to an elf, called Aniond, as part of a consignment of armour, but Valir grew attached to the shield, and decided to keep it."

"That's a dwarf for you," said Legolas, with a sly grin at his friend Gimli. They had long ago patched up their differences, so Gimli took no offence. 

"The elf probably didn't pay him," Gimli quipped.

"Aniond was angry at being duped," said Connell, smiling slightly at the banter between the friends. "So, not knowing that Valir was in Mordor, he performed a spell that would take the shield far out of Valir's reach. Aniond's powers were greater than even he knew. As he performed the spell, Valir had his hands on the shield, and was taken where the shield was taken. That was in my time. It was the mid-sixties … which will only mean anything to my daughter, I suppose." 

Gwyneth nodded. 

"I was on a tour of duty in Northern Ireland when I was wandering back to the barracks one night, and thought I must have drunk too much. I was sure I saw a leprechaun in the road in front of me…" None of the other listeners, apart from Gwyneth, had a clue what Connell meant by a leprechaun, but they listened politely all the same. 

"A leprechaun is a sort of elf, only very short, more of a pixie really, that is supposed to live on the shores of Ireland, and have stacks of gold hidden away," Gwyneth explained helpfully. "It's supposed to be kept at the end of the rainbow."

"Like that song you were singing to us!" Merry cried. Gwyneth, tired of singing Bridge Over Troubled Water, had amused the hobbits with the story of the Wizard of Oz. They had cried when it got to the bit about Dorothy waking up in her old bed again. "But I thought it was where happy little blue birds flew and your dreams come true…" Merry said, confused.

"Well, they will come true if you find lots of gold," Gwyneth replied, smiling.

Elrond looked at her sharply. Surely this woman from another world was not another one like Lady Rhonda or her friend Will. He had not yet told Gwyneth that her friends were in Rivendell.

"Anyway," said Connell, eager to get on with his story. "the leprechaun turned out to be Valir, who informed me that he was a dwarf. When I returned to England, he stayed with me for a while, until we could work out a way for him to return. We never really did. The way home for him just happened. There was a sudden thunder storm one night, while we were sitting in the garden. The shield was never far from him. He was sitting on it at the time, to get more height in his chair. Valir had just reached over to take a drink from my hand when lightening struck. I was thrown into Middle Earth in this time, but I have never learned what happened to Valir. I assume he was sent to his own time."

"As far as the legends tell, he never returned," said Gimli. "Our people never saw him again."

"I am sorry to hear that," said Connell. "I liked Valir. He was a sneaky customer, but he could hold his whisky."

"Dad…" said Gwyneth, as though she had just remembered something. "Isn't that about the time that I was born? Yet, you don't mention mum. Was she there? Did she know Valir?"

Gwyneth had been told that her mother had died when she was a baby and was always eager to hear more about her to add to the 'memories' that she tried to keep.

"No, she did not. It was before you were born, my love." Connell said, trying hard not to look at Amebrindra. 

Elrond, however, could not fail to read the tension in Amebrindra's form. He struggled to read her properly, but her mind was closed to him. It told him better than her openness would that the beautiful young woman sitting opposite him was the daughter of Amebrindra and Connell. 

"How did you get here, Lady Gwyneth?" asked Elrond. 

"I'm an archaeologist, and we were digging in Wales, when there was a thunderstorm. I suppose I must have found the shield. I only remember seeing a glint of silver, then felt as though I was thrown down a tunnel. Goodness knows what my friends, Will and Gwyneth thought…"

"You will be able to ask them yourself." Said Gandalf, raising an eyebrow. "They followed you and landed in Rivendell."

"I don't understand," said Frodo. "Why do people not end up in the same place when they touch the shield?"

"I think I can answer that," Elrond replied. "I know of Aniond, and the spell he put on the shield was that it should go wherever destiny took it. It must have been Lady Gwyneth's destiny to find you in the shire, and her friends' destiny to land in Rivendell and corrupt all my elves." His voice was dry. 

"Oh dear." Said Gwyneth quietly. "Rhonda, I presume?"

"Yes, Lady Rhonda." Elrond nodded. 

"I am sorry if they have been a problem to you, Lord Elrond," said Gwyneth, blushing under his intense gaze. Any other time she might have enjoyed looking at his blue eyes. "They are not bad people really, but our manners and customs are very different in the future, though not all women are like Rhonda." She added hastily.

Elrond looked at Gwyneth and wondered. She did not seem as brash as Rhonda, that was true. He nodded courteously. Something in him wanted to believe the best of her.


	10. Mordor and Rivendell

****

The Shield of Valir Part Ten

(Formerly _Project Rivendell_)

__

(A/N apologies for taking a while to update. I've had computer problems, then I had to remember my plot!)

"Where is this shield now?" asked Gandalf, looking at Gwyneth and Connell. 

"It wasn't with me when I landed in The Shire." Gwyneth shrugged. "Do Will and Rhonda have it?" She looked to Elrond, who shook his head.

"No, they do not have it. We would have noticed. They were unconscious for some time, so there was no time for young Will to hide it." Elrond explained, though his mention of Will hiding the shield drew mystified glances. 

"Nor with me when I came to Middle Earth this time," said Connell, "though it was the first time, which was how I returned with … to Gwyneth."

"It seems from this that the shield goes where it wants to go," said Gandalf. "It has its own destiny. Perhaps Lady Gwyneth found its final resting place, and it awoke for one more adventure."

"Does that mean we're stuck here?" asked Gwyneth, slipping her hand into her father's.

"Until the shield finds its way to you again," replied Gandalf, who suspected that everyone who touched the shield was somehow bound to it, in very much the same way as the ring bearers were forever bound to the one ring. 

****************

There wasn't much left of Mordor. Just a few ruins of the old building. The rest had fallen into the great crevice that had appeared when Frodo threw the ring into the chasm. But at that particular moment, Mordor was as busy as if Sauron had still lived. Orcs who had survived the destruction, were bustling around, as if preparing for war. Swords and other weapons were being created in makeshift smithies. The orcs who had swords were practising with them, and others were lined up in drill fashion, having orders shouted at them in English. There weren't really a thousand Orcs on the loose. Middle Earth was as prone to Chinese whispers as people in the future. There were maybe two or three hundred Orcs, and many of those were amputees or had some injury left over from the Battle for Middle Earth.

Sargeant Mike Rauson, of the Paratroop regiment looked at the ragtag army he had created and grimaced. When he had landed on Middle Earth, closely following his commanding officer, Colonel James Hadley, he had realised that this was a world that he could run his way. The orcs, who had never seen an Ouzi, were terrified of the machine gun that Rauson held in his hands now. He had only fired it once (he had very few rounds left to waste), but it was enough to let them know that he had 'magical' powers beyond anything they had seen before. Not only that, but he owned a shield with which he could appear and disappear at will. The shield, as Gandalf had guessed, had its own destiny, and at this moment in its history had chosen Sargeant Rauson as its owner. 

"Are we ready?" He barked to his troops. There was half-hearted agreement. "Good. Then tomorrow we march to Gondor, and remove King Arthur…"

"Aragorn!"

"Whatever. We remove him from this throne. When I am king of Gondor, you shall all be rewarded, and all your enemies will be punished."

There was an almighty cheer from the Orcs.

*****************

"I need a drink," Rhonda moaned to Anondir. It was evening in Rivendell, and Anondir was doing his best to keep Rhonda sober. He had succeeded for a whole week, only for her to hit the bottle the night previously when she had been feeling homesick. 

"Why do you need a drink?" asked Anondir. "Is my company so boring?" He was only half teasing.

"No, of course not. Anondir, you know I like you. I've really enjoyed these past few weeks," said Rhonda. It was true. Anondir had treated Rhonda like a person, not a piece of meat, or, as in her father's case, like a dumb animal. She had even come to enjoy his poetry, whereas at first she had thought it all a bit soppy and embarrassing. No one else in Rivendell was embarrassed by poetry and literature, so Rhonda felt herself relaxing among the elves and enjoying their culture. "I miss my own time." Rhonda told Anondir. "I like it here, and I like being with you, but I don't belong here. I don't even belong with Gwyneth and Will, studying archaeology. I only did that to please my dad. I belong in London, going to clubs with my friends."

"Mmm, and did you not say that one of these friends stole your lover?"

"Yes, but we all do it. It's a game. I stole her boyfriend when we were at school."

"I see," said Anondir, not really seeing at all. "Perhaps, if you ever return, you should tell your father that you do not want to study this archaeology, and find something that you want to do. What is it that you wish to do?"

"Oh, I don't know. I used to be really good at art when I was at school. I drew some pictures of Rivendell this morning. Would you like to see them?" Rhonda asked, shyly, afraid Anondir would laugh at her. 

Anondir agreed readily, glad to have an excuse to keep Rhonda away from the drink. 

They went to her rooms, where she showed him her pictures of Rivendell. They were outstanding. Using pastel chalks, she had managed to capture the magic of Rivendell, and its fading glory. She looked up to him for approval.

"These are …" Anondir paused. "These are the most wonderful pictures I have ever seen of Rivendell, and we elves are good artists. You really do have talent Rhonda."

"Thanks." Rhonda, blushing, reached up and kissed him on the cheek. For the first time in her life, she found herself actually enjoying a man's (or rather an elf's) company for its own sake, and not for mere sexual gratification. "I … erm … perhaps I should turn in," she said, suddenly feeling awkward. 

"Turn in?" Anondir looked puzzled.

"I mean go to bed." Rhonda smiled. 'It's a phrase. To turn in."

"I see." Again, Anondir didn't see. He was taking some time to get used to the way these people from the future talked. "Goodnight, Lady Rhonda." He was relieved that she had forgotten about drinking.

"Goodnight, Anondir."

Anondir left Rhonda in her room, and went back down to the courtyard, to return to his own home. Isaldur was standing in the shadows, an angry look on his face.

"I see you are spending a lot of time with the Lady Rhonda." Isaldur called to Anondir.

"We are friends, Isaldur, that is all." Said Anondir. "Come, you and I have no need to fight."

"Do we not?" Isaldur moved out of the shadows. He was holding his sword, but swaying from side to side. He had clearly been drinking too much. "You dishonour my Lady, and then when my back is turned, you take advantage of her."

"Isaldur, it is not like that. I will not fight you, Isaldur. Rhonda is changed now. She is not the woman you knew. She has learned the importance of real friendship." Anondir held up his hands in supplication.

Isaldur was not listening. He lunged forward in the dark.

Rhonda was just about to get into bed when she heard a blood-curdling scream. Instinctively feeling that this involved her somehow, she dashed out of her rooms and down into the courtyard at Rivendell. 

Lying in a pool of blood, in the centre of the courtyard, lay Anondir, a sword through his chest. Isaldur stood over him, now sobered up completely, his face stricken with the enormity of what he had done. Other elves, sensing that something evil had taken place among them, were coming out of their houses. Isaldur turned to Rhonda.

"He dishonoured you…" the young elf said, his voice shaking.

"Anondir!" screamed Rhonda, tears filling her eyes. "No! He was just my friend." She knelt on the floor next to Anondir, desperately feeling for a pulse. "He was just my friend, Isaldur."

Isaldur was not listening. Pulling the sword from Anondir's chest, Isaldur turned it towards himself, and then threw himself onto the blade…


End file.
